The First Time I Came Under Fire (Optelic / O*i*f 2003) Poem by James S Newcomb Lang

The first time I came under fire
I didn’t have any fear
I just heard the crack and whistle
As bullets passed my ear

I was more annoyed than anything
As I was a medic and there to give aid
It simply didn’t cross my mind
That I should be afraid

The second time, they hit my Ambi
There was even a hole through my door
I simply felt incredulous
About this unconventional war

But then it happened so often, I learned
To take cover where it was found
To avoid the inevitable outcome
Of an accurate incoming round

We looked after our sick and the injured
We treated the enemy too
We did the job that we trained for
We did what we needed to do

To ameliorate the suffering of others
Was the end to which we strived
So in the worst of adverse conditions
Medics fight to keep you alive

Whether on foot, or in convoy
You never knew when it would come
But it came on a regular basis
And then they would turn and run

In their wake, they would leave devastation
So as a medic, I had to work fast
As sometimes they’d leave us surprises
That delivered a secondary blast

I lost count of the number of contacts
And the chaos I had to endure
But I remember the fear and adrenalin
Of that I am certainly sure

Our rules of engagement tied us
So when we fired, they faded away
Safe and secure in the knowledge
They could hit us the following day

But as time went on, they grew bolder
And better prepared for the fight
They attacked our bases and compounds
They attacked us by day and at night

They had the advantage of home ground
They knew every alley and street
They knew where to hide in the country
They were spectres we had to defeat

But as soldiers we had orders to follow
Insurgents have nothing but hate
So we’re stuck in this desert of mayhem
Until the government decides our fate